


(I Long for You) Olivia

by euhemeria



Series: And, In Sign of Ancient Love, Their Plighted Hands They Join [59]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Allies to Friends with Benefits/Enemies to Lovers, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Secret Relationship, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 19:58:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euhemeria/pseuds/euhemeria
Summary: The lie they tell themselves is that they are meeting only for sex—and it is not untrue, entirely, because they certainly indulge in as much, but that, too, is just a mask for something deeper, something that pulls them to one another time and again.  But it is a fun mask, and so Aleks does not care to disturb the peace, to break their unspoken truce.  What would she gain by it?Or,Aleks wants more from her relationship—but she does not know if asking would be worth the risk of losing Olivia entirely.





	(I Long for You) Olivia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [binarylazarus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/binarylazarus/gifts).



> here is... the first part of a thing... no eta on the rest but thats okay bc it can stand alone

Although most would deny it, everyone makes judgements when they look at other people.  They think they can identify another’s age, their gender, their race, and from that information—no matter how inaccurate one’s observations were—assumptions are made, about personality, about character, about ability.  About Aleks, what people often assume is this: that she is stupid.  Why?  Because she is strong, because she is young, because she has an accent, because she dyes her hair, because she is a woman—any number of reasons.  Truthfully, she does not question why.

It does not hurt, people thinking she is duller than she is.

After all, it is the clever ones that people watch out for, the crafty who are suspected of deceit.  Aleks seems stupid, and so she must be guileless; this, she lets people assume.

Why not?  It is useful, to never be questioned, to know that, if she needed to, she could get away with whatever she pleased.  Rarely does she abuse this trust people place in her—what has she to hide? 

Nothing.

Or, well, no _thing_ , but one person.

She very much doubts her colleagues in Overwatch would be pleased to know about her relationship with a certain Talon hacker, so she does not mention it.  And no one asks, either.  Oh, they needle her, ask her when she intends to settle down like the rest of them are, when she will find a steady girlfriend, when she will stop answering all questions about the source of the scratches on her back with nothing but a smirk—but they never expect a real answer, never press when she waves them off yet again, claiming she is not one for serious relationships.

A half-truth.  What she has with Olivia is not serious in the traditional sense; they have no future plans together, have never lived with one another, see each other but for a few times a month for a tryst, or maybe a night if they are lucky, but nonetheless Aleks does have _feelings_ , developed them somewhere along the way, and now cannot imagine ending her arrangement with Olivia in favor of finding someone else.

Sometimes, she feels guilty about this deception, considers going through the trouble of explaining the truth to her coworkers—her friends—but her relationship with Olivia predates her enlistment in Overwatch, and she is, otherwise, the prefect soldier.  Why not allow herself this?

Naturally, Olivia agrees.  Not that it counts for much, necessarily, as her life as Sombra is built entirely upon deceit, the buying and selling and creating of lies.  Naturally, she would have no qualms about Aleks lying about her—but Aleks suspects, even if she cannot know, that just as Olivia’s lying has rubbed off on her, their relationship has allowed Olivia room to be honest, now and again.

At least, she seems honest enough, like this, slipping into Aleks’ room on base, having somehow bypassed security, and curling up against her in the dead of night.

“I missed you,” she whispers against Aleks’ skin, quietly enough that, even though she was listening for it, Aleks can barely hear.  If she had been asleep, like Olivia thought, she would have missed it entirely.

Another lie: Aleks always feigns sleep, when Olivia visits like this, appreciates how much more open her partner is, when she thinks no one can hear her.

(Partner, she says, as if she and Olivia ever worked together in more than a begrudging capacity, in the early days of their relationship.  Neither are they partners professionally nor in the traditional relationship sense but—somehow, it fits.  One day, they will talk about their feelings in the light, and Aleks will ask if it would be alright, to use that word.  Not today, though.  For now they are something, are nothing, are everything, are all potential and no reality.  Worryingly uncertain and exciting all at once.)

Aleks cannot help but think that the lies are worthwhile, particularly when, the day after slipping into Aleks’ room in the dead of night, and leaving again before daylight, Olivia inevitably returns, bypasses the security system of whatever base Aleks is staying at, that night—she always knows, somehow, just which one it will be—during the daylight, this time, with a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.

Once, they were allies, traded information at times like this, and that was their excuse for these meetings, that they were a mutually beneficial exchange of information, but that all came to a close when Aleks left Russia for Overwatch.  Now, the lie is that they are meeting only for sex—and it is not _un_ true, entirely, because they certainly indulge in as much, every time they meet, but that, too, is just a mask for something deeper, pulling them to one another time and again.

But it is a _fun_ mask, and so Aleks does not care to disturb the peace, to break their unspoken truce.  What would she gain by it?

Why would she want things to change, when Olivia is so beautiful like this, spread out on her sheets waiting for her when she returns to her quarters?

Aleks plays surprised, because she knows that is what Olivia wants, and because it furthers the little lie they find themselves in, that they only see each other like this, for this, that they feel nothing for each other, but are a convenient fuck.

She plays surprised and she listens.

She listens, of course, because she _likes_ to listen, likes to be told what to do, to take orders, to be led, because it is easier, that way, than thinking—she gets so very tired of thinking, sometimes, tired of being oh so very aware of the consequences of what they are doing, in this new Overwatch, of the result of her having left Russia, of what it was she did in aiding Katya Volskaya, or what it means that she has this peace with Olivia, who is Olivia, yes, but is also Sombra, her enemy, a woman who has allied herself with a terror organization for convenience.  Not thinking is easier, at times.  Simply following Olivia’s orders spares her that pain, that crisis, if only for a little while.

But she also listens because what she wants, more than anything, is to please.  What she wants is for her people to be proud of her, yes, and for her superiors to be pleased with her, but most importantly, she wants the people she cares about to be happy.  Part of that is satisfying her lovers—and if taking directions helps, then she will do so gladly. 

(Always, it has mattered more to her that the people whom she loves are happy than herself, but in sex, this is not a bad thing.  Instead, it is the case that bringing others pleasure is what turns her on, too.)

When Olivia orders her, she does not say anything—because they do not talk, during this, will talk afterwards, about other things, but to talk during the act would be to come dangerously close to admitting that these liaisons are tinged by _feelings,_ by something less like wanting one another and more like a longing for each other.

“Come here,” Olivia beckons her, light flashing dangerously on the rhinestone she has embedded in one long nail, and Aleks does, moves over to the bed, _her_ bed, although it does not seem so from the way Olivia is so at home commanding her from it, and kneels on the soft mattress beside Olivia, hoping she does not seem quite so eager as she feels. 

Close up as she is, now, she can see the design Olivia’s lingerie, the deep purple embroidered with some sort of geometric pattern, the thread so fine and so alike in color that she could almost, _almost_ miss it.  There is a slight irregularity to it, and knowing Olivia, it _must_ mean something, but Aleks will not ask, because something else catches her eye, then.

Olivia has brought a gift with her.

If nothing else, it can be said that Olivia has impeccable, if oftentimes expensive, taste, and her collection of sex toys reflects as much.  When and how she acquired many of them, Aleks does not ask, merely inquires about the ones that bare the mark of Olivia’s own handiwork.  Her questions are not simply a formality—it is important to Aleks to understand the tools she uses, in order to employ them to maximum effect—and Olivia explains most of them to her patiently, evidently quite proud of what she has crafted.

This toy, however, does not seem so high tech as the others, is instead something which, at least to Aleks’ eye, is very simple, and very familiar.

A dildo.  No bells, no whistles, no vibration or sensory feedback or warmth or lights or any number of the things Oliva’s various toys tend to be paired with.  Just a dildo.

It is a strange deviation of the usual circumstances of these meetings, because Olivia _always_ cloaks everything about herself in technology, uses it almost like another mask, an alias, a distraction from herself.  In the years they have been doing this, Aleks cannot name a single time that she has touched Olivia directly, below her waistline, not without _something_ else present and distracting her.  Because Aleks is a curious person, and a patient one, both, that is fine, for she always has something new to try, and has been content to wait for Olivia to make the first move in breaking down this barrier between them.

And now she has.

Or, Aleks assumes she has.  Maybe the dildo really _does_ do something else, and Aleks just does not know it yet, but she would prefer to hope that it is ordinary, because of what it might mean.

Olivia uses technology to deceive, to distract from herself, to misdirect—and if this really is something very ordinary, then maybe she will allow some of the focus, this time, to truly be on herself.

(If she could tell Fareeha about this, Fareeha would probably laugh at her, would say that only Aleks could get so emotional about a _dildo_ , of all things, and remind her not to take herself so seriously.  But, of course, she cannot tell Fareeha, because her friend never deviates between what is right, and good, and would not be able to get past the fact that this is _Olivia_ , would in fact see her only as Sombra, as the enemy.  So she ignores Fareeha’s voice in her head, telling her to take herself less seriously.)

“Put it on,” Olivia orders her, and for once, Aleks has no clarifying questions, obeys without hesitation, grabs her harness from her nightstand and adjusts the straps with a practiced ease.  This, she can do.

“Good girl,” Olivia tells her, when she is once again seated on the bed, peach silicone jutting out from her body at an angle that, frankly, is a bit silly to look at, bouncing back up when Olivia gently presses the tip down, checking the fit in the harness.  “So eager for me.”

If Aleks were the type to talk back, she would note that it is obvious, from the way Olivia smells, this close, and from the way she touched herself whilst Aleks put on the harness, that it is she who is eager—she who was touching herself already before Aleks entered the room.  But she is not, so she says nothing, at that, even blushes a bit, because it _is_ true.  Even if Olivia is more eager, Aleks, too, is very much so.

“Very good,” Olivia says, after having given Aleks one last appraising gaze, sharp eyes searching for—something.  And, apparently, finding it.  “Now,” she spreads her legs as she says it, corners of her mouth curling into a very self-satisfied smile, “Fuck me.”

Aleks in no way hesitates to comply, to move Olivia’s legs to the right angle, push her panties to the side, and enter her.  Although she knows Olivia is prepared—she always is, takes care to do so before Aleks ever arrives, perhaps out of impatience, perhaps as a tease, perhaps because she dislikes vulnerability—Aleks is still careful as she enters Olivia, does so slowly, giving her time to adjust, if she needs it, or to call things off, if she decides that this change is not something she is ready for, after all.

Or, she tries to go slowly, until Olivia tells her, “You know I’m not fragile,” and then—well, then she thrusts into Olivia with what she feels is an appropriate amount of force, pulls her lover’s whole body down onto the dildo using the grip she has on her hips.

If Olivia asked, although she never does, Aleks would not say that she holds back when they are together, for she does not, but she does, certainly, use what she considers an _appropriate_ amount of force.  There is no need to be rough, to use even a fraction of her strength, and nor does she particularly _want_ to be rough with Olivia.

Certainly her partner, if she can call Olivia that, is far from delicate, but Aleks’ feelings for her, however, are increasingly so, and what she wants—well, foremost, she wants Olivia to be happy, and she certainly seems to be, in the moment, body moving to meet each of Aleks’ thrusts, hands moving to grip Aleks’ back, pulling her down, pulling them closer together, so if Aleks moves just so she can moan directly in Aleks’ ear.

But she wants, too, is for things to be a little more intimate between them.

At night, when Olivia sneaks in and whispers her love, places an ear over Aleks’ slow-beating heart, whatever it is between them is so tender, so gentle that it _aches_ , for neither of them knows, quite, how to deal with that sort of feeling, and Aleks wants, or thinks she wants, something like that now, too.

But how to go about it?

For all that Olivia insists she is not delicate—and, truly, she is not, is far more adaptable, more used to surviving, no mater the cost, than most—there is _something_ between them that is, is a skittishness to their love, as if to put it to words would shatter the fragile peace they have built for themselves.

Always, there is a wall between them, and there must be, given their respective roles, but here, like this, skin against skin as their sweat mingles together, the sharp points of Olivia’s nails digging into the skin of her shoulders a contrast to the softness of her skin, her hair, the pliancy of her body beneath Aleks—like this, the wall is thinner, almost porous, and Aleks thinks that with one wrong (right?) word she might slip through it.

But that thought is too gentle for them, for this, and Olivia tells her, “Harder,” and “I know you can do better than this,” and Aleks has something to prove, then, stops holding back and is rougher with Olivia, because that is what Olivia wants from her, roughness.

(She wants an enemy, a not-quite ally, someone who knows that she is a formidable opponent and will treat her as such, wants someone as big and strong as Aleks looks.  What she does not want is gentleness, is hesitation, is whatever it is Aleks tries, sometimes to give her.  In Olivia’s world, no one is kind without wanting someone, no one is gentle unless they follow it with cruelty, and so Aleks—she does what she can, does what Olivia wants from her.  Maybe one day she will prove that vulnerability is not weakness, but not today.)

By now, she is good at this, knows well what Olivia likes, knows at just which angle to thrust, knows how hard to bite in order to draw blood, knows the right moment to bring a hand over to Olivia’s clit, and how hard to press her thumb, at which angle she should do so. 

So she does, does exactly as Olivia likes, and her efforts are gratified with the rise in pitch of Olivia’s voice, the scraping of her nails’ down Aleks’ back, hard enough to leave marks, the way she shakes.  All the while, she wonders if Olivia realizes that this, too, is a sort of intimacy, this familiarity they have allowed to blossom between them.

Surely, she must.

But if she does, then she does not allow it show, for the things she says to Aleks as she approaches the edge are the same as ever, are instructions Aleks has not needed her to give in a long time, are praises, always this side of patronizing, are anything and everything but _tender_.  That is fine, Aleks tells herself, for Olivia does not owe her that, but it feels—dishonest.

Just because Aleks _can_ lie does not mean she wants to.

But she says nothing, when Olivia comes, works her through the orgasm, and slowly, slowly removes herself when she knows it is over, before the feeling can become too much.  Gently, she rights Olivia’s underwear for her, knowing that she does not like to be so exposed, that in the years they have been doing this now, she has never seen Olivia naked, in either sense of the word.

In the afterglow, Olivia praises her, and normally, it feels Aleks with warmth, but this time?  This time it feels hollow.  Foolish, to think that the dildo meant anything, to think that by removing technology in any small way, Olivia was signaling that she was ready for vulnerability.

She is not.  Maybe she never will be.

When Olivia catches her breath, offers to reciprocate, Aleks does something different from their usual—she declines.  She does not lie, does not feign tiredness, says that she is not interested, and it is true.  Oh, she is aroused, certainly, but right now she does not want—

—What?  Does not want the lie?  She has made herself a liar already.

 _Olivia._ Right now, she does not want Olivia, whose name ought to signal something more true than her alternate self, all shrouded in mystery, but instead serves as another mask.

(Once, Aleks was afraid that there was nothing to Olivia but masks, and that she would only ever love a facet of the woman.  Now, she knows better, knows that there is something deeper, but that is, somehow, more dissatisfying, for Olivia has never let her see it.) 

As Olivia slips out her window, Aleks pretends not to see the hurt on her face, tells herself it must be the way the shadows play across her face.

She has read too much into things already, she thinks, got her hopes up for nothing, with the dildo and the _I Love Yous_ that might have been a dream.  There is nothing deeper between them, and she is selfish for wishing there were, is only fooling herself, because she cannot accept that she wants something Olivia will never give her.

Another lie.

**Author's Note:**

> fic title from 1ds "olivia"... chapter title from the same, as will be all future chapter titles... when i get around to that
> 
> so anyway. zaryasombra, huh?


End file.
